Alone Together
by Lanie Kay-Aleese
Summary: House/Wilson. House has a theory about Wilson and Amber's relationship. Set after "Don't Ever Change".


This is a re-post. I'd originally put this in the wrong category by accident.

**Summary:** House has a theory about Wilson and Amber's relationship. Set after Season 4, episode 12.

Prompt response to the possibly abandoned House M.D. group, Prompt #2. It's not too important to the story though. :)

**Pairing: **House/Wilson, obvious mentions of Wilson/Amber**  
Rating:** PG-13? Mentions _s-e-x_. And definite slash.**  
Word Count: **806  
**Disclaimer: **I'm just waiting for Fox's licenses to run out, and then they're _mine_!

* * *

_**Alone Together**_

* * *

It's snowing.

But it's winter, so these things do happen.

Other things that happen: patients going into cardiac arrest, stupid teams who don't know what they're doing, Cuddy cutting you from the case, best friends dating your mirror image (the sexuality being reversed, of course, but it's really all the same).

And you're even more pissed because within the past few months, you and said best friend have been more (and less) honest with each other than ever before in your relationship. You're both guys and you've used the 'L' word without flinching, that's got to be some sort of a sign.

Maybe it's because you've graduated to that level of closeness that you don't want to hear him use the 'L' word for anyone else.

Or maybe it's because he said he's having sex with you.

Metaphorically, you know it's true on both ends. Wilson has had and will probably have that Cut-throat Bitch again when he gets home, and you've had more doe-eyed, bushy eye-browed hookers than you'd possibly want to remember.

But right now, he's wearing his college sweatshirt again, the one that Amber had been wearing when you invaded her home last night. He wants to know why you'd steal his keys to accost his girlfriend, and yet tell him the very next morning, this morning - that you gave your assent for him to date Amber, after all.

You don't turn around, but the ends of your downturned mouth twitch. There are so many things you want to say. You want to rip off that sweater, and burn it, but it's almost irrelevant compared to what you need to say.

You want to know why Wilson lied about the difference between four months and four weeks. You want to know what the Bitch's goal is in this whole thing. You know that Wilson said that it was a great idea, that he should've thought of it a long time ago, to 'date House', but what you want to know is if Wilson _really_ thinks it would be good for you, _if_, instead of being in the snow, you were inside your warm apartment already, with him pressed flat against your wall. Or what about with him squirming under you, on top of the sofa cushions, or in any number of positions (you've had around ten years to be creative, and of hundreds of fantasies you're not actually certain which you'd prefer right now, as long as he took off that damn sweatshirt with the pit stains on it).

You have an idea. You're about as sure as you have to be. You'd be a terrible diagnostician if you couldn't see what Wilson was doing.

He's trying to get you to make the first move.

You _know_ that Amber was meant to threaten you - and your status in Wilson's life - and that Wilson's oh-so-convenient revelation about the similarities between you and her was not unmeditated. Wilson's not above manipulation, and you like that, except for when he's so sure he that has to manipulate you to get what he wants. Even though you often demonstrate it yourself, that kind of brazenness makes you stubborn.

It also makes you desperate.

Wilson knows that soon enough, you'll give in, or force him to give in. You'll have to - if nothing else, you'll do it out of self-centered curiosity. It'll be a whole different kind of hell after that, but you'll make sure that if anyone ends up humiliated, it's Wilson. Or Amber, for playing along with Wilson's scheme, just to make you jealous.

It's working.

You know you're right about this; you can feel it instinctively. Wilson wants you, but he doesn't want you with all of your arrogance intact. He wants to see you needy in a _new_ way. No matter what he says about that bitch representing his attempt to break from the mold, he's just using her, and he hasn't changed at all.

But neither will you.

And that's why, in spite of Wilson's acquisition of Amber, nothing will happen. Not tonight.

The snow will continue, probably get worse.

You'll turn around, watching as Wilson drives around the corner and out of sight. You'll limp up to your apartment and you'll recline on the couch, watch some T.V., drink and pop pills until you pass out, thinking of how he's fucking Amber but thinking about you.

And then the next day, you'll go to work, grumpy, and insult your fellows until they finally save someone's life, or end it. Either way, you'll end up with your mysteries, and someone will end up with their diagnosis. You'll be needy and desperate and alone.

"Why would you do that?" asks Wilson, still mad, apparently. And even though you're not facing him you can just _see_ his expectant stare; his huge, hungry brown eyes trying to grab onto your soul.

"I was testing a theory," you reply, terse, but smug. "I was right."

"You had to steal my keys to prove that you were right? God, House! You're obsessed," he accuses.

"Bye," you say, and wave him off, obviously just as pissed off as he is as you head up to your apartment. His attempt at being insightful gets on your nerves. Well, _duh_, you think, everyone who has ever met you knows that you're obsessive, but at least you don't lie about it.

Maybe you're miserable, but at least you're willing to admit that the misery is your own.

* * *

Comments? Please!


End file.
